


The Wolf and the Raven

by Runara (Lurkylurk)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Dandelion finds inspiration everywhere, F/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 00:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11024373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurkylurk/pseuds/Runara
Summary: He did not plan to spy on them, really. Contrary to his friends' believe, he had a sense of propriety - but they made such a wondrous sight he could not help it.





	The Wolf and the Raven

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a 300 word fic prompt, but it got out of hand. Just roll with it, there's not much about setting/plot, I didn't want to make it even longer. 
> 
> The prompt was: accidental voyeurism, hidden passage, poetry. I'm sure the one who requested had something porny in mind, but these two make me feel too many feels so it got emotional. :P

He did not plan to spy on them, really. Contrary to his friends' believe, he had a sense of propriety. Still, Dandelion could not help but sate his curiosity after finding a hidden passageway that lead in-between the rooms below his own. The creaking hatchway lay partly hidden under a carpet and looked like it had not been opened in a few years.

Maybe, he thought, he would find a lonely maiden in one of the adjacent rooms, waiting for his exquisite company? Or a hidden treasure long forgotten, ready to be plundered? Their group of traveling companions could use some coin. The passage was dusty and so narrow he had to walk sideways to avoid getting stuck, but he had to know what was hidden here.

Yet he did not come far in his search, for suspicious sounds stopped him not far from his own room. He put his ear to the wood of the wall and - yes, there was a suspicious creaking on the other side.

One of the wooden planks shifted as he braced his hand against it. He did not know what possessed him to lift the plank and peek under it, distantly wondering if that was the purpose of this corridor. He knew there was something shady about the innkeeper.

All thoughts left him the moment he saw them. Of all the rooms he could have glimpsed inside, he had to come upon the one occupied by his dear friend Geralt - which he shared with none other than Yennefer of Vengerberg. That alone did not surprise him; the sight they made however, did.

The Witcher sat on the edge of the bed and had the sorceress straddling his lap. Yennefers eyes seemed to glitter in the low light, her head thrown back in bliss and her magnificent body on full display. Both were very naked, and the whole room looked like they had been _very_ busy for the past hour, or three. Clothes strewn across the room. A dresser cleared of various items, now scattered on the floor as well.

Dandelion should have turned around. Such a private moment between lovers was not meant for his eyes, but something about the pair compelled him to keep watching. They made a wondrous sight, a duet of contrasts and opposites. Black and white. Golden and violet. Soft and hard. Flawless and scarred. It was truly worthy of a new ballad.

He was yanked out of his musings by Yennefer's high moans as their passionate dance hastened. Geralts arms wrapped around her lithe body and guided her hips back and forth. Going by the increasing sounds pouring from the sorcerer's lips, the sly wolf seemed to hit all the right spots.

The Witcher looked up at her like she was a goddess made flesh until Yennefer's head snapped forward, sinking her teeth into his shoulder like _she_ was the wolf. Geralt hissed and growled, the sound so guttural her body visibly shivered. In one sudden movement he flipped them both over and pressed her into the sheets. Smooth legs wrapped around his hips and delicate hands roamed wherever they could reach.

Even though Dandelion now had a view on much more than he ever wanted to see of Geralt, he could not help but admire his fluid movements. Being trained in combat and swordplay seemed to come in handy in another kind of melee as well. There was something poetic about them together. Black and white intertwined, the raven and the wolf. It simply looked... _right_. His fingers itched to write the longer he watched them.

He should have turned around and left. It was a miracle Geralt had not heard his galloping heart yet - or he did not want to. Maybe he was so lost in Yennefer's that he could not sense anything else. Dandelion wondered how it must be, to enjoy a woman and to hear, smell, taste, _feel_ like Witchers do.

As hard as he tried, Dandelion could not avert his eyes from the couple. Against his better judgment he slid even closer along the wall, until he saw that the glistening on the sorceress' face was not a trick of the light after all. Tears pooled in her eyes, slowly sliding down her perfect cheek until the Witcher's hand crept up her neck and his thumb caught the liquid diamonds with a tenderness he did not expect. Not only that, he was close enough now to catch Yennefer's words, and they squeezed around his heart like a fist.

"Love me," she kept whimpering, "Geralt..."

More than ever Dandelion felt like an intruder. He should have left, but his feet were rooted to the spot. He heard Geralt's low, rough voice as he murmured into her ear, but it was impossible to discern the words. All he saw was that they made Yennefer tighten her hold around his shoulders, clinging to him like she never wanted him to leave her.

Not for the first time the poet realized that the sarcastic and often obnoxious sorceress might not be what she pretended she was. He could have never imagined this vulnerability on her face, this sadness behind the longing in her eyes. There seemed to be so much more between them, something he couldn't even begin to understand. Something he couldn't even put into verse, and that was saying much.

Their lovemaking - because there was no other word for it - began to reach its peak. Their movements became almost desperate. He saw smooth thighs sliding up and down pale hips. Battle-worn hands wandering restless along softest flesh, slender fingers gripping into scarred muscles and snow-white hair. Breaths and moans mingled between their lips, their sighed names reached his ears. Gold never left violet until they couldn't help but close their eyes and succumb to their pleasure-

They were a song in motion.

Dandelion almost forgot to breathe. By the time he remembered the couple had calmed, Geralt still cradled in Yennefer's embrace. He _really_ should have left by now.

 _One last look,_ he thought, still awed by what he just witnessed. _One last look for the inspiration._

When he glimpsed through the slit, a pair of narrowed, very irritated cat-eyes locked with his.

_Uh-oh._

In his haste to scramble back to his room he did not even notice the dusty crate in the corner, filled to the brim with golden and silver jewelry. The ballad of the wolf and the raven he wrote made up for that, no doubt.

 

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know if you see any mistakes, english is my second language.


End file.
